


The Devil to Pay

by starfright



Category: Original Work
Genre: Betrayal, Blow Jobs, Class Differences, Coercion, Come Eating, Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Forced Masturbation, Forced to Wear Opulent Clothing, M/M, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Partner Allows Other(s) to Xcon Victim, Rough Oral Sex, Unwilling Arousal, Wagering your lover's body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:46:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27646357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfright/pseuds/starfright
Summary: Kelton Wright has debts to pay. Unfortunately, they aren't his own, and money isn't the issue. The Marquis of Laughton won his bet with Kelton's lover and whether Kelton agreed to it or not isn't his concern.Besides… the Marquis arranged for Kelton's outfit for the evening. If Kelton doesn't want to return the clothing and jewelry before he finds a way home, he needs to make good on his lover's promise.
Relationships: Noble/Rival Noble's Lover, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 16
Kudos: 58
Collections: Consent Issues Exchange 2020





	The Devil to Pay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [furchte_die_schildkrote](https://archiveofourown.org/users/furchte_die_schildkrote/gifts).



> Thank you to my beta, S, for providing feedback on an early draft. All mistakes are my own.

"What are these people doing here?" Kelton asked, taking half a step backward.

Edward pressed his lips together. He sat at his desk, a quill in one hand, several ledgers and sheaves of paper spread out before him. From what Kelton could see from the doorway, the papers looked important. He recognized a bank seal on the bottom of one of the letters. It wasn't the kind of bank where someone like Kelton would ever hold an account. Normally, during their visits, Edward put away all that kind of work.

Normally, during their visits, they were alone.

All the lamps along the edge of the walls were lit. It brightened Edward's room from intimate to cold. Two men in professional, crisp suits waited across the room from Edward's desk. Between them was a low, wide stool. The kind that a customer would stand on in a tailor's shop. Behind them were two trunks he didn't recognize as Edward's. Kelton was very familiar with the contents of Edward's chambers.

Edward lowered his head back to his work. He didn't look up or meet Kelton's eyes. "We've been invited to dinner with the Marquis of Laughton."

Kelton looked back at the strangers. They did not smile. One of them gestured for him to come closer.

"You need to be properly dressed," Edward explained.

Heat flushed Kelton's skin, turning his neck and face an unbecoming red. He hesitated, then crossed the room to Edward's desk. Edward continued to write. If Kelton hadn't been as familiar with Edward as he was with the lord's chambers, he would have missed how tightly Edward gripped his quill.

"My lord," Kelton said, his voice low. "My presence in the Marquis' home would be inappropriate."

"There's nothing inappropriate about my bringing a companion to dinner," Edward said. He turned a page in his ledger and made a mark underneath a cluster of other marks Kelton couldn't begin to make sense of upside down.

The heat edged down into Kelton's chest. He glanced at the strangers, but they had turned away and busied themselves with opening their trunks. Inside were folded stacks of fabric.

Surely Edward couldn't be serious. Laughton and Edward had never gotten along. Edward had always told Kelton to avoid him. Kelton had done his best. Over the past couple of years, there had been several times he'd bumped into the Marquis in public - in ballrooms, or clubs, where excusing himself from the crowd would have made a scene. The Marquis had never, in public, been untoward, although he had a tendency to be… intent. It was an accepted part of his reputation.

The one time Kelton had made the mistake of finding himself in conversation entirely alone with the Marquis, with no one to witness, he'd been forced to go to great lengths to excuse himself. He'd ended up leaving the opera entirely, without even the chance to tell Edward where he was going. That had been over a month ago and Kelton couldn't imagine a reason for visiting the Marquis' home now.

"I don't think," Kelton started, still speaking quietly.

"Your presence was specifically requested."

"We agreed that it was best if I maintained my distance from the Marquis, my lord."

Edward finally looked up. His dark eyes were flat and emotionless in a way they never were when he and Kelton were alone. This close, Kelton could see faint rings of gray under Edward's eyes, and lines of exhaustion at the corners of his mouth. His hair was swept back neatly and tied at the nape of his neck, but his white powder was mussed at his temples so the brown showed through, as if he'd been unable to stop himself from fussing at his hair. In any other circumstance Kelton would have cupped Edward's face in his hands and asked what distressed him so.

But Edward's tone was heavy and final when he spoke. "His lordship wishes to discuss business, and I am not so esteemed as to dismiss his interests. You can hold your own, Wright, you received a perfectly fine education. I should know, I was there."

Kelton flinched.

Edward let out a small breath. He leaned forward. Something pained passed through his eyes. He lowered his voice. "Please trust that I've arranged matters as well as I can, my dear."

Behind them, one of the strangers cleared his throat. "Lord Grant," he said. "We must begin."

"It's just clothing," Edward assured Kelton.

Kelton would have harbored fewer doubts about that if the tailors hadn't insisted on stripping him and dressing him in new clothing from the skin up. If the Marquis had truly insisted on his presence at dinner, he didn't see why the quality of his smallclothes mattered.

—

The Marquis of Laughton was similar in stature to Edward - both of them taller than Kelton - but had darker hair. His black hair was short and free of powder. Whoever _his_ tailors were, they had outfitted him in a snugly fit black coat, crisp white shirt, and boots that shone as he walked down the stairs to greet them. His waistcoat fastened with silver buttons and a silver diamond pin held his cravat in place. Several rings decorated his fingers.

Kelton tried not to fidget in the confines of his own suit, which nipped in at the waist. The Marquis glanced at him and trailed his eyes over Kelton's new clothing. Besides the coat, which was a dark green, Kelton was in a matching waistcoat and dark silk breeches. His waistcoat also fastened with silver buttons. The tailors had informed him that the green 'complimented his fair hair,' although they regretted nothing could be done about Kelton's uncommonly dark eyes.

They had also placed a small emerald pin in his lace cravat, and he had been fitted with an elegant silver and emerald ring. He normally took no jewelry, and Edward himself only wore a cameo ring even now, but he hadn't been able to get Edward to explain the adornment.

The Marquis stopped on the bottom stair. Instead of turning to Edward, he looked up and met Kelton's gaze.

Kelton found himself quite without breath for a moment. The look on Laughton's face was the same as it had been when they'd met in the hall at the opera. Laughton had pale blue eyes, and he looked at Kelton as if they were alone.

"My lord," Edward said, bowing.

Kelton bowed as well.

The Marquis inclined his head. "Shall we adjourn to dinner?"

The house didn't stop being grand from the entryway. The dining room was outfitted with elegant chestnut furniture. The china here sported elegant, refined patterns, and the silverware was polished to a high shine. If the servants were surprised to hear Kelton addressed as Mr. Wright, they were too practiced to show it, and they poured his wine just as easily as Laughton's and Edward's.

When Kelton went to spend a private evening at Edward's, they frequently ate in his chambers, sharing food from a single tray. More often than not Kelton sat half in Edward's lap and they laughed more than they ate.

Laughton sat at the head of the table. Edward and Kelton were seated opposite each other.

There was conversation, but there wasn't any laughter. They discussed business - Kelton got only slightly crisp when discussing shipbuilding and the recent successes of his father's company, contracted with the Royal Navy - and a vote up before Parliament, which of course concerned only Edward and the Marquis. Kelton attempted to keep his concentration on the food and tried not to be visibly relieved each time talk failed to turn to opera, and chance meetings in hallways.

"Do you play pharaoh, Mr. Wright?" Laughton asked as the last plates were cleared away.

"Pharaoh isn't my game, my lord," Kelton said.

"Piquet, then?"

The expression on Edward's face was imploring, though he didn't speak.

Kelton said, "Sometimes."

"Let's," Laughton said, and stood.

—

Piquet was a two-person game. Kelton followed Laughton's lead into a drawing room. He glanced over his shoulder, trying to exchange a look with Edward, but Edward walked with his head bent and his eyes on the Marquis' back. He didn't look at Kelton. There was no moment between the dining and the drawing rooms to speak. No chance to touch his hand to Edward's, however discreetly.

The drawing room was just as stately as the dining room. Fine curtains covered several windows. Armchairs and a chaise lounge provided seating. There was a table arrayed with glass bottles and drink, and another set up with two chairs for cards.

"Sit," the Marquis said.

Kelton pulled one chair out at the card table before he registered that it had been an order. He frowned and glanced up.

No servants followed them into the room. Laughton went to the alcohol to pour his own drink, and Edward stood near the doorway, his shoulders squared and his hands locked together behind his back. Edward didn't make a move to join either of them. He stood there, still and blank-faced, as if waiting for an order of his own.

It was only when Kelton stepped away from the card table that Edward finally looked at him. Kelton's stomach dropped. There was pain in Edward's eyes. The muscle in his jaw was tight, and his brow was drawn together.

He looked afraid. And desperate. He met Kelton's eyes and shook his head.

"I appreciate your composure tonight, Grant," the Marquis said to Edward, turning around. He raised the glass in his hand at Edward and sipped from it. Then he looked at Kelton. It was another long, appraising look, starting at Kelton's face and drifting down to his shoes. "You have excellent taste. The green suits him, don't you think? I told you that it would."

Kelton took half a step back, bumping into the card table. It wobbled.

Edward swallowed. "Your lordship's reputation for generosity is well deserved."

The corner of Laughton's mouth quirked.

Kelton felt the table wobble again and realized he had sat on it. He pushed himself to stand and began to smooth out the front of his waistcoat, but stopped when he felt the emerald ring brush against a silver button. The buttons on Laughton's clothing were also silver. That did explain - It did suggest, at least, who had employed the tailors.

He forced himself to say, "My lords. I find that I'm unable to follow."

Both of Laughton's black eyebrows rose. He set his drink down and poured another. "Grant," he said. "You didn't tell him?"

If there was something Edward should be telling Kelton, he didn't say it now. He shifted his weight and remained silent.

"I suppose you didn't think he would take it well," Laughton said, mildly. He brought the new glass over to Kelton. The sudden closeness of him, his wide shoulders, a bulk made civilized by neatly cut clothing, the faint odor of cologne, all made Kelton's head spin. He gripped the glass simply to keep it from dropping to the carpet. Laughton reached up and cupped Kelton's jaw in his hand.

Kelton's breath sped up. Laughton watched him, then lowered his eyes to Kelton's mouth.

It was the same look that had sent Kelton running at the opera house.

"However," the Marquis said, his voice dropping coolly into rebuke, "you've put me in the most unpleasant position by keeping it secret. Your company will not be required this evening after all, Lord Grant."

There was no room to move backward. Kelton slid sideways instead. Some alcohol sloshed over the rim of his glass onto his hand. Laughton's blue eyes flickered briefly, but he didn't reach out to pull Kelton back to him. He allowed Kelton to put an arm's reach between them.

"Explain this, Edward," Kelton said.

Laughton let out a soft laugh at the sound of Edward's given name.

"I arranged matters the best that I could," Edward repeated.

"Pharaoh may not be your game, but it is Grant's," Laughton told him.

There was nowhere to put the drink down. Kelton kept it in his hand as he walked up to Edward, ignoring the feel of Laughton's eyes on his back. Edward tried to look away from him again, but Kelton stepped directly in front of him.

"What did you do? What on God's green earth did you wager?"

Edward had been there last month. Kelton hadn't been able to speak to him before fleeing the opera house, but he'd gone to the Grant home the next day to explain. Emotions had still been high and Kelton's hands shook as he explained being cornered in the hall. The way the Marquis had watched Kelton's mouth as he spoke. The way the Marquis had brushed long fingers against Kelton's blond hair and the suggestion that if Kelton truly wanted to make use of his education, he would do well to make better connected acquaintances. 

Edward knew. He knew all of it.

Now Edward had the gall to look angry. He lowered his voice to a whisper and snapped, "I took care of it. I managed the situation before it could spiral even further."

"Allowing the Marquis to dress me?" Kelton demanded. His hand was shaking. He wanted to toss the drink in Edward's face, but he wanted to walk out of here with Edward more. "Putting jewelry on me and not explaining that it was to appeal to him?"

"He was already watching you. You caught his eye and his attention."

"I did nothing!"

"You left my box and spoke to him alone," Edward said, his voice thick.

Kelton stepped back. Cold gripped him.

"I gave him this night," Edward said. There was an ugly curl to his lip. "You need to trust my judgment. This isn't your place, and you do not understand how these things work."

There was no voice in Kelton's chest. Years. It had been years since he'd first met Edward, in university, one of the few students there because of money instead of right by title. The two of them had fallen in together almost immediately. Edward had been his first - his first love, his first friend, the first person to defend him when doors were closed in his face. The person who'd told Kelton _follow me_ when others had said _keep out._

"This is exactly what I did not want to be present for," Laughton murmured, sighing.

Edward pulled his jacket straight. He smoothed his waistcoat, and fixed his cuffs. He swallowed again. "You will conduct yourself with decorum and that will be that. Tomorrow, we-"

"No."

The tension in Edward's expression gave way to surprise.

The glass shook in Kelton's hand. It felt like he was pushing a door shut against a strong wind. He said, only the barest quiver in his voice, "I will not be at home tomorrow, my lord. I find that I do not know when I will be in town again."

Edward replied, "That would be a mistake."

"Then I err, but I err by choice."

Edward opened his mouth.

Laughton cleared his throat and raised his voice before Edward could. "That's enough. You are dismissed, Grant."

Startlement closed Edward's mouth. His jaw clicked. Then he said, stiffly, "Your most obedient, sir."

He turned and exited the room. No one came in while the door was briefly open. There was no chance to leave after him. No chance to follow. Edward shut the door behind himself in the same motion that took him through it, leaving Kelton and the Marquis on their own.

—

"You should drink. It's a good brandy," Laughton said.

Kelton worked his jaw. He looked into the glass and did not drink. "I regret the display."

"As do I," Laughton said, dryly. "I assumed that he would have the courtesy to tell you that you were part of his wager."

Brandy did not, as it turned out, remove the sour taste from the back of Kelton's throat. He choked down a single swallow and deposited the glass on a random shelf, packed with books. It was the nearest flat surface and the only one not within the Marquis' immediate range. Kelton made the mistake of looking at the card table when he turned around. He imagined Laughton leaning against a table like that, while Edward consented to offer Kelton up along with chips and coin. He struggled not to gag.

"Why?" Kelton asked.

Laughton tilted his head. "Do you not recall?"

"I recall your words from the opera perfectly, your lordship." Kelton found himself clasping his hands together behind his back to hide a tremble, although that was Edward's own habit. "What I am still lacking is the knowledge of why Lord Grant attempted to wager my time."

"Both 'attempted' and 'time' are debatable," Laughton said, smiling. "But if you must know, I offered to clear his outstanding debt if he won."

"Outstanding?"

"Grant owes me several games' worth of losses. I won't bore you with the figures." Laughton paused, then made a gesture. "Come here."

It was an order, but this time, Kelton restrained himself. He held his hands together tight behind his back and shook his head. He resisted the urge to prove himself obedient. He said, "I will take my leave, sir."

Laughton's smile faded. "The evening hasn't begun."

Simply turning and flinging himself through the door was tempting. If Kelton fled, though, he would be fleeing for as long as the Marquis wanted it that way. If Kelton fled, he would also be courting Edward's condemnation. Laughton would certainly call Edward's debts in if he ran away. There was more space between Kelton and Laughton than between Kelton and the doors, but the vast drawing room felt as narrow as the hallway in the opera house those several weeks ago.

This had to be handled carefully. The Marquis had said he thought Kelton knew what he had walked into this evening. If Kelton made it clear he hadn't, then perhaps he could walk away. Perhaps he could simply pay Edward's debts himself.

"My lord Grant may have made an agreement with you, your lordship, but his affairs are his own," Kelton said.

"He seemed confident he could speak with authority over your affairs."

"Please have my utmost assurances that Lord Grant has no authority over me and cannot speak on my behalf."

"You have such a long association. Didn't you say that was why you couldn't attend me at the opera? I was given to understand you harbored tender feelings for the man."

Raising his eyebrows, Laughton walked toward Kelton. He moved slowly at first, then more quickly when he realized Kelton wasn't going to retreat. Graceful steps closed the distance between them. Kelton braced himself but wasn't prepared for the abrupt intrusion into his personal space. Laughton came close enough that the heat from his body cut through the cold fear squirming in Kelton's chest. Laughton's eyes were bright. The Marquis was holding back laughter.

Kelton quietly ground out, "Recent events have given me reason to end our association."

"Mm." Laughton touched two fingertips to Kelton's jaw and tilted his face up. There was still laughter in his eyes. "That leaves you unclaimed and unprotected."

"I am no one's to claim, sir." Kelton took a step back, far enough that Laughton's hand fell away from his face. He unlocked his hands and let them hang at his sides. "And I do not require protection."

"Grant boasts about how clever you are," Laughton said, shaking his head.

Then he moved, and the door slammed against Kelton's back.

Kelton brought his hands up to defend himself. Laughton caught both his wrists and clasped them above Kelton's head with one broad hand. Kelton kicked. Laughton pressed the full bulk of his body against Kelton's, so his thighs pinned Kelton's legs to the door. It put Laughton's chest against Kelton's, too, and Kelton could feel a satisfied rumble roll through Laughton's body as Kelton struggled to twist free.

"Let me go!"

"You have debts to pay, Mr. Wright," the Marquis said, grinning. He brought his hand back to Kelton's face and forced his chin up again. This time it wasn't so Laughton could meet Kelton's eyes. It was so Laughton could bend his head and kiss Kelton's jaw, his lips hot and dry.

The squirming mass of fear in Kelton's chest burst. Blood rushed in his ears. The heat from Laughton's body sank into Kelton's own. He tried to move himself sideways and only succeeded in rubbing himself against the hard plane of Laughton's thigh. At that, Laughton finally laughed. Laughton also pulled Kelton's face down to force their mouths together, the rings on his fingers digging into Kelton's skin. Laughton's grip on Kelton's wrists tightened until pain lanced down Kelton's arms. It made his lips part.

Laughton jerked his head back when Kelton bit his tongue, but he didn't let go. He laughed again.

"Let me go. I'll pay Grant's debts myself."

"You will pay in the way I was promised you would." Laughton slid his hand up from Kelton's jaw into his hair and raked his fingers through the blond strands, until it was all mussed and hanging across Kelton's forehead. It made sense now that the outfitters Laughton sent hadn't wanted to powder Kelton's hair. "You could have avoided this if you'd listened to my advice in the first place."

If Kelton had any faith left in Edward, he would have replied that he had all the connections he needed. All he could do now was swallow a gulp of air.

"That austere drabness you usually wear is such a waste of what you have," Laughton said.

Laughton kissed him again, drawing Kelton's lower lip between his own. And as if to emphasize what Kelton had, Laughton also rocked his thigh against Kelton until Kelton shook from it. His mouth moved and Laughton seemed to take that as a kiss returned. He released Kelton's wrists. It would have been a relief if there had been any hope of pushing Laughton away. Kelton's hands ended up on Laughton's arms. His fingers dug into the fabric of Laughton's jacket.

"This is how Grant should be dressing you. In color, and appropriately accessorized."

"I dress myself, my lord," Kelton said. His voice shook. He tried to draw in a full breath and couldn't.

"Do you?" The Marquis touched the emerald pin in Kelton's cravat. "You were happy enough to wear them when you thought they were from Grant."

"You weren't in the room."

Laughton blinked and smiled.

"Allow me to leave. I'll settle Grant's debts. I won't make trouble."

"I don't think you want to leave."

Laughton cupped one hand against the back of Kelton's neck. He slid the other between Kelton's legs, gripping slightly. The heat that prickled up through Kelton's gut reminded him starkly of the snug smallclothes he'd been fitted in. The way the tailors had fussed over the fit of his breeches, and how they'd insisted on a French fall, so the button closure ran straight down the center. Laughton thumbed one of the buttons and laughed when Kelton pushed ineffectually at his arms.

"My lord," Kelton said. It was hard to think. His pulse raced so hard it nearly hurt. He was hot beneath the layers of his clothing, and he could feel his cock beginning to swell under the press of Laughton's hand.

"I paid for these clothes," Laughton murmured. He rubbed his palm against Kelton's thigh. "If you're going to storm off without fulfilling your end of the bargain, I'd like them back."

Kelton stared.

"Now," the Marquis added, as if Kelton could have missed the command. He even let go of Kelton and stepped backward.

Kelton covered the emerald pin with one hand. "I can't walk the streets unclothed."

"If you insist on keeping them, you could find a way to serve me without undressing." Laughton shrugged. "Or you could leave and find out tomorrow what it will cost."

Fleeing the city was out of the question. Kelton only had admission to society in the first place because of his family's business, and that was solidly rooted in the city. Losing Edward's favor and gaining the Marquis' ire in one night…

There was no give in Laughton's expression. No amount of money would fix this. Kelton had money in spades, but that was never what it came down to, was it?

Kelton sank to his knees.

"Grant told me you knew how to put your education to good use."

Kelton allowed himself to concentrate on the rush of his heartbeat in his ears. He focused his eyes on the Marquis' buttons and with barely shaking fingers opened Laughton's breeches and pushed aside his smallclothes. It was short work to free Laughton's cock and no surprise that he was already hard. Kelton wrapped his hand around the base of Laughton's shaft. He realized he'd been trying not to inhale. Not to breathe in Laughton's scent.

Trying to block it out wouldn't work. Kelton had to breathe. And thinking about Edward instead made a sour taste rise in his throat.

He kept his eyes lowered and opened his mouth, dragging his tongue along the side of Laughton's cock. He licked the swollen head, tasting salty precome, and closed his lips to suck lightly.

Laughton made a pleased noise. He swept Kelton's pale hair back from his face and pushed his hips forward, driving his cock further past Kelton's lips. His cock was hard and heavy and flattened Kelton's tongue while filling his mouth. Kelton swallowed, a dribble of precome spilling down his throat. He moved his thumb against the base of Laughton's shaft, and tried to move his tongue, but Laughton pushed his hips forward again. Now several inches of him filled Kelton's mouth. Kelton breathed in through his nose and sucked harder.

"Open your breeches," Laughton ordered.

Kelton let go of him. He fumbled with the buttons on his breeches while Laughton cupped his face with both hands, his hips beginning to move in a slow, sure rhythm, pushing the hard length of his cock back and forth along Kelton's tongue. It made opening Kelton's breeches a struggle, but he managed.

"Stroke yourself." Laughton hummed softly. His next thrust drove the full length of his cock into Kelton's mouth. It pressed Kelton's lips flat against the base of Laughton's cock. But before Kelton could adjust, Laughton was drawing back. "Get yourself hard, pet. I didn't send all of these clothes over not to get a good look at the complete picture."

It should have been difficult. Kelton felt hot shame rise to his face as he ran his hand along himself. He was already partly hard, and even with the Marquis continuing to leisurely fuck his mouth, it took little attention to make himself fully erect. He could feel wet precome at the head of his cock, and he stretched his fingers to smear it over his skin.

Laughton drew back so the head of his cock fell free of Kelton's mouth. Laughton had begun to breathe harder. "Perfect," he murmured. "Your university money was clearly well spent."

Kelton couldn't stop himself from glaring, though he didn't raise his eyes.

"You must know what you look like," Laughton said. "I refuse to believe Grant and whoever else you've serviced hasn't told you. Don't give me that expression, you're far too skilled at this to lie."

"Perhaps my lord is simply pleased with my appearance," Kelton said, angrily.

"Perhaps," he agreed. "Fuck yourself into your hand, pet. Move your hips. Excellent. Now use that fine tongue of yours again and I'm sure we'll be done soon."

Moving his hips and licking the head of Laughton's cock made Kelton feel clumsy, but his chest squeezed with the anticipation of freedom. He circled his tongue around the end of Laughton's cock, and pumped his hand along his own shaft. Laughton pressed forward and Kelton closed his lips again, sucking gently and moving the flat surface of his tongue up and down along Laughton's cock.

"Too pleased," Laughton murmured.

Kelton expected the thrust forward. The thick press of Laughton's cock against his tongue was already familiar. He opened his mouth wider to accept Laughton's length, but his jaw clicked as Laughton continued to push. Both of Laughton's hands locked on the back of Kelton's head just as Kelton's lips rubbed against the base of Laughton's cock. Kelton's mouth stretched. It hurt. Kelton dropped his hand from his own cock.

"Ah," Laughton said. Kelton risked glancing up for the first time. The corner of the Marquis' mouth went up. "I think I like this even better."

The rest of Laughton's thrusts were short. There was nothing leisurely about him now. He barely pulled back before shoving forward again, the full length of his cock keeping Kelton's mouth forced open, his hands keeping Kelton's head in place.

The head of Laughton's cock pressed into the narrow confines of Kelton's throat and Kelton found himself choking. There was nowhere for Kelton to brace himself other than letting his hands rest on Laughton's hips. He could feel spit at the corners of his mouth and on his chin. The Marquis wet his lips and kept up the punishing rhythm, until his cock entered Kelton's throat with each thrust. Kelton choked around it, his throat squeezing, his head spinning.

And he couldn't touch himself, not with his hands grasping Laughton's breeches for purchase, but he could feel that he was still hard. Laughton bore down and held his cock just inside Kelton's throat, until Kelton was struggling to breathe through his nose and could feel spit dripping under the fabric of his cravat. Kelton choked, and Laughton moaned, and even knowing he was only on his knees because Edward had given him up couldn't make Kelton any less hard.

When Kelton was desperate enough to try to twist his head in Laughton's grip, the Marquis pulled away. He moved his hips back, his cock dragging across Kelton's lips, until Kelton's throat and mouth were empty. Kelton sucked in gasps of clear air.

Laughton used his hands to tilt Kelton's head back, groaned again, and came. He spilled come across Kelton's open mouth, moved Kelton's head, and came in thick, hot spurts across Kelton's face. Kelton flinched as come fell into his hair, and squeezed his eyes shut. The feeling of stickiness in his eyelashes made him shudder and he slipped in Laughton's grip. The last of the Marquis' come dripped white over Kelton's cravat and the dark green fabric of his waistcoat.

Trembling, Kelton let go of the Marquis. He put one palm flat against the floor.

"Lick your lips," the Marquis said, still breathing hard.

He half-shut his eyes when Kelton obeyed, and laughed when Kelton tried to turn his face away. His hand touched Kelton's cheek. He dragged his fingers over Kelton's skin, picking up a smear of come, then dipped two fingers into Kelton's mouth. Kelton closed his lips and sucked, shaking, while Laughton lazily moved his fingers back and forth along Kelton's tongue. The come was salty and still warm. Kelton blinked, but it didn't shake the mess from his eyelashes. His own spit was drying on his chin and neck. He felt grimy and soiled.

"Finish yourself off. Keep sucking. I think it's obvious enough that you enjoy it. There," Laughton said, his voice growing soft. His eyes were bright and clear as they locked on Kelton's, and he continued moving his hand, adding a third finger to force Kelton's lips open just that much wider.

Kelton wrapped his hand around his cock and pumped. He didn't want to be ordered to fuck his hand again, or to move his hips.

Laughton picked up a smear of come from Kelton's cravat with his other hand. He withdrew his fingers and forced the come past Kelton's lips, then used his hand to close Kelton's jaw, so Kelton had to swallow.

"Perfect. I should have made Grant stay after all, even with the scene he made me witness," the Marquis said. He ran his thumb along Kelton's lip. "I would have let him fuck you now. It would have been perfect, and we could've decorated you a second time. Tell me, do you enjoy letting Grant do this to you?"

"My lord, if you want to know Grant's preferences, I suggest you ask him directly," Kelton said. His voice was so ragged to his own ears, he felt himself turning red. His cock twitched in his hand.

"I'm not interested in _his_ preferences."

"My mistake."

"When he offered you to me," Laughton said, running his eyes over Kelton's face, "he said you swallowed well, and feeling you choke would be exquisite. He was right."

Kelton shook. He gripped his cock and came, looking away from the open delight on the Marquis' face. His come spilled across his thigh and dripped onto the floor. It stained his breeches, and Laughton told him to spread his knees and pump himself until he finished. Kelton tried to keep the rest of it off the floor, feeling a frantic edge of shameful panic as he did, hating the sight of himself messing his own thighs.

Laughton let Kelton go at last. He rearranged his own clothes, tucking himself back into his breeches.

Kelton lowered his head. He put his hand back on the floor and tried not to sway.

"Look at you, you're a wreck," the Marquis said. His voice was appreciative, not chiding. He sounded downright eager as he added, "Imagine what would happen to you if you went out in public like this."

Kelton could imagine all too well. Without Edward's carriage, how would he ever get back home on his own? Of course, the Grant home was much closer, but he couldn't drag himself there. Not looking like this. Not with Edward's words ringing in his ears, even with the uncertainty of how real they might be.

"Will I not be permitted the courtesy of washing up?" he asked.

"The original wager was that I get you until sunrise. If you want to fulfill it, I'll give you full reign of the washroom and a new set of clothes besides." The Marquis inclined his head and added, "Clothes that you can keep without concern."

Kelton clenched his jaw. Which ached. He forced himself to relax, and slowly got to his feet. The Marquis did not lend a hand to assist. Kelton fixed himself back into his gifted clothing and tried not to think about how the Marquis would outfit him if he intended Kelton to keep the clothes. Given the emeralds and the silver rings on Laughton's own hands, Kelton had the sinking feeling it would include more jewelry.

"How much does Grant owe you?" he asked, warily.

"As I said, discussing figures is a bore."

"I would like to know what I was sold for."

"Ah." Laughton shrugged and told him.

Kelton's eyes widened. He felt briefly cold.

The sated expression on Laughton's face melted into faint amusement, his eyebrows lifting. Not wanting to wait for Kelton to react, the Marquis turned and crossed the room to pour himself a new drink. He gestured for Kelton to join him.

Walking felt like moving through the thickest evening fog. Somehow Kelton managed. The alcohol the Marquis poured for him burned on the way down, but it also washed the taste of Laughton off Kelton's tongue. He swirled his next drink around his mouth just to rinse his teeth. The way Laughton looked at him suggested what Kelton was doing was obvious. But Kelton had a strong suspicion that before the evening was over the Marquis would force him to swallow more than brandy, again.

Kelton didn't understand how he hadn't noticed this happening. The sum wasn't… It wasn't staggering, but while Edward was appropriately discreet with his finances, Kelton knew the Grant estate couldn't easily weather the repayment. It also would have taken many games to accumulate. This wasn't the kind of bet that would be made in a single game. Not even in two or three. This figure could have been building for a year, well before the incident at the opera house.

Laughton was looking at him curiously, waiting. The longer it took to process the number, the more Laughton's attention drifted to the stains on Kelton's clothing.

Given enough time, Kelton would have been able to clear the debt. If Edward had asked. But of course that would have called for a different kind of sacrifice on Edward's part.

All Kelton could make himself say was: "How? How did Edward get himself in that position?"

The Marquis cupped Kelton's chin in his hand. He smiled. "I play a long game, pet."


End file.
